


Through the Looking Glass

by SasstrianPrissess



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 05:02:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2495429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SasstrianPrissess/pseuds/SasstrianPrissess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ah, poor Alice, trapped in another world and yet there is still that damnable white rabbit she had yet to catch...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Looking Glass

Beneath the Phantomhive manor lays a space of marvelous distraction. It contains objects so ordinary that only the foolish dismiss without a second glance. However, it is because of these objects that our story takes place. Although, amongst the objects lying seemingly abandoned, there is only one which we will look at closely…

Try not to lean to close though, Ma Cherie, for only glancing upon it will suffice. “Why is that?” you may ask. Well, the object in question is a mirror. This particular mirror shows its beholder their innermost desires and shall act upon them in a moment’s notice. It is also very dangerous to those who seek to get much closer than simple eye contact. I can see your hand reaching to touch as if in defiance of my words, with a gracious smirk I shall only briefly pull away your hand and speak more of why you ought to refrain from touching the glass.

My story to you takes place so many years ago, centuries even, since every object including the mirror has seen usage. I knew of a foolish child who was seeking to do as much as you were moments ago. He touched the mirror, but that time was of his own ignorant mistake…

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“Tch, damn that Sebastian,” Ciel growled, pursing his lips as he paced up and down the mahogany wood of the second floor hallway, his cane making small taps with its ornamental metal tip along the hard floor as he walked.

The young earl was irritated at the fact that his butler had thought to abandon him in his own home in favor of cleaning up a certain guest room that was rarely used. It was rarely used as such because this particular room was once his mother’s favorite. Within the room were feminine objects of high quality; beautifully scented perfumes in crystal bottles, fine and immaculate dresses of brocade and Chinese silk, hats with proud plumages (as it was the style during such a time), shoes made from the same silk as well as encrusted with the finest jewels that would make any woman (refined or not) weep at their brilliance. Yes, Rachel Phantomhive was a pampered pet of a woman, but she cared not for the fineness of the jewels her husband, Vincent Phantomhive, bestowed upon her, for he would always tell her, with the best of boasting pride any man could muster, that she was finer and more brilliant than any jewel or dress.

Yet, those memories seemed so long ago, for there was only one thing that actually interested him that had been stored away since the second restoration of the Phantomhive estate. It was a mirror. This mirror was no ordinary mirror, for the simple fact that, although it was a gracious gift bestowed upon the young Phantomhive couple on the day of their wedding by the Queen herself, it was unremarkable in any form or sense. No jewels adorned its simple frame, there was not even a swirl or engraved flower that was allowed to grace the frame. Its frame too, was of complete un-elegance for it was made of iron and notched with thin, shiny bronze strips every few inches. All in all, it was just a simple and ordinary mirror that even a common whore could afford.

Just as Ciel’s patience had run thin, did Sebastian exit the room with ruby eyes that held a different aura than the usual, sly grace he commonly displayed to all who dared to glance into them. Upon the demon butler’s face, there was a slight tinge of satiation and his impeccable suit was displaying the slightest edge of dishevelment. Although to the untrained eye, nothing seemed wrong with Sebastian, Ciel could still tell that something was off by a slight degree.

A knowing smirk barely hinted at the demon’s mouth as he gazed down to stare directly into Ciel’s sapphire eye, “Young master, I’m afraid that airing the room took longer than anticipated. It is approximately fifteen minutes until two, however, would you like to take your afternoon tea in the drawing room?”

Ciel was quite nearly appalled at the words his butler spoke. They were in common coherence, yet they were unbalanced, suffice to say that it sounded as if the demon spoke two sentences that blurred together into one. It was unnatural and abominating to hear such imperfection that tumbled forth from a being that was essentially perfect.

“Ah,” The bluenette merely grunted, uninterested as he continued to study the tall raven before him.

He was quite moody after he had been told to wait outside as Sebastian cleaned the unused room with about as much speed as a mock-turtle. A moment more of silence passed betwixt the two males before Sebastian made a slight bow, dismissing himself to prepare the tea and leave Ciel to walk alone to the appointed room. The young Phantomhive, however, had better plans for how he was to spend the wait time…

As soon as the demon butler was out of earshot, Ciel reached for the burnished brass doorknob, twisting it open with the slightest click from the catch. He held his breath, expecting the old scent of the room to tangle within the fresh breath he held captive in his lungs. When no such entanglement appeared, he released his breath, noticing that the scent of the room was fresh and lightly fragrant with the scent of the white roses from his garden. The room had not changed at all. Everything was as his mother had left it last, down to the last ruffle on the blue day dress Rachel was fond of wearing. The wide, double door window was standing open, allowing a gentle spring breeze to waft through the room. So subtle was the breeze that the white gossamer curtains fluttered and danced to an ephemeral melody no one could hear. This quite motion lent to the feminine atmosphere of the room, reminding to Ciel all that he had once forgotten. For a moment, he closed his eyes and simply breathed.

He then opened his eyes, noticing that, out of all the things newly refreshed with the spring breath, the vanity’s detachable mirror was still covered by a light, blanched sheet. What was more peculiar to him was the fact that the sheet looked as if it had been recently disturbed. The sunlight filtering through the gauzy curtains glimmered off the sliver of glass that peeked out from under the sheet, drawing him closer as if beckoning voices called out to him sweetly from the mirror. Ciel reached out with a timid hand, his small fingers wrapping around the edge of the sheet as he made to slip it off the thin frame.

The sheet pooled into a lazy pile atop the vanity shelf, allowing Ciel a full glance of himself. He slowly released a breath he did not realized he held, from within the silver glass a single sapphire eye peered back at a boy no older than twelve. The boy’s dark hair contrasted with the purity of the revealed eye, giving off an air of melancholy. With his right hand, he reached up to undo the black, silk patch he wore to cover his contract with Sebastian, dropping that as well atop the vanity. Now what peered back at him was a boy who’s eyes told different sides of the same story, his right eye was that of an amethyst color with a glimmering, spiked seal that marked him as an item of belonging while his ocean blue one spoke of a tortured past. He blinked a few, slow times as he reached up with his right hand to delicately trace under his right eye with the tips of his middle and index fingers upon the glass. It had been quite a while since he had last seen the contract and pondered its meaning, his thoughts indicated with a soft sigh as he continued his contact with the mirrored surface.

It was as if he were touching liquid silk, the clear surface smooth and unyielding has he gently stroked the surface. Just as he backed away to sit upon his heels did he finally realize his surroundings. The room to the Phantomhive manor was no longer in existence; instead, a dense foliage with large, exotic flowers surrounded him. The soft carpeting, that was typical of his mother’s tastes, had been replaced with a mossy, spring-like undergrowth of sweet grass and young shoots. The mirror he thought he had been looking at was nothing more than a thin, clear pool of sweet water that had gathered between the roots of a particularly large white rose.

“This…this cannot be real!” Ciel gasped, leaning forward once more to gaze into the clear pool.

 


End file.
